


The House Across the Street

by drowning_ophelia



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Antichrist, F/M, Murder House, Original Fiction, Reader-Insert, Smut, Young Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 23:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16607432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowning_ophelia/pseuds/drowning_ophelia
Summary: With fascination, she had observed the mysterious young man disappear into the murder house at night, unknowing why he would visit it repeatedly. Now, she had decided to find out, only to finally find herself confronted with her own desires.





	The House Across the Street

It had been the third time this week that she had seen him lurking around the abandoned house across the street. Everyone in the neighborhood kept telling her that the place was haunted, cursed and that she should stay away from it. Far away from it. So what could he possibly be doing there almost every other night?

She had only just moved here with her parents and yet she was already yearning to leave for college later this year. California wasn’t for her, although she appreciated the blazing sun, the eccentric people, and the view from her window.  
The room she called her own was located on the second floor and overlooked the front lawn and the mysterious house looming beyond. Intentionally, she had placed her reading chair in front of the tall window so she could observe the world outside which was so very different from the ones in her books. 

A particular daytime favorite of hers was the Eternal Darkness Tour that passed through their street to stop in front of the murder house almost daily. She had toyed with the idea of taking the tour herself, but had never gotten around to it. Instead, she enjoyed watching the spectacle from her comfortable seat with a hot cup of tea, delighted by the tourists’s ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’. 

The house was said to be completely empty and, yet, she swore that there were shadows moving somewhere inside the house and sometimes a figure would peek through one of the many windows. But, whoever or whatever it was, they were gone in the blink of an eye. This alone had been reason enough for her to stay away from this place. All this time, she had never felt the urge to investigate the place for herself.  
Until now. Because this time she had waited for him to return, had planned to follow him. 

With swift steps, she snuck down the first flight of stairs, tiptoed past the closed bedroom door of her parents on the first floor, and eventually exited through the front door. The street was deserted and still, she hurried to the other side, looking around herself suspiciously. 

She doubted that the mysterious young man had ever noticed her watching him, despite the fact that she had followed his visits with great curiosity from the moment she had moved into the house.  
The very first night he had already been stealing himself into the supposedly deserted house and with every visit, her fascination for him grew. So much so that she sometimes found herself waiting for him, swallowed by the darkness of her room so he wouldn’t be able to see her, as she could see him. 

He had only just disappeared into the building and now she, too, stood on its very doorstep. Suddenly, she started to feel unsure about herself. Was it really the best idea to follow a total stranger into a haunted house in the middle of the night? Anxiety nagged at her as she looked over her shoulder, towards her new home. Not a single window was lit up invitingly, not a soul awake. If she would scream, no one would hear. Not now, under the cover of darkness, when most people were drifting aimlessly through their dreams.

Determined, she shook her head to clear it from its doubts before she reached out to open the door. For a moment, her hand halted on the doorknob but something beckoned her to step inside. With a tentative push, the door swung open noiselessly and revealed a dark entrance hall. 

While her eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly, she pondered where the young man had gone. Upstairs? Into the basement? Or was he simply snooping around one of the rooms that were adjacent to the hall she was sneaking through?

Considering that no one had lived here for a while, it was surprisingly well-kept. Normally she would have expected sheets to cover the elegant furniture that was neatly arranged throughout the home. But there was none of that. Her steps didn’t even leave footprints in a thin layer of dust. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that people still lived here.

After having inspected the ground floor and finding absolutely no one, she decided to go upstairs. When a step creaked under her step, she almost jumped, well-aware that if he hadn’t known about her being here already, he would probably know now. Frozen and with her heart hammering in her chest, she listened carefully for any sound, tensely waiting to hear footsteps or the call of a voice. But the house was as silent as a tomb. 

Some of the doors she found closed and locked, while others stood half-open and invited her to look inside. When she eventually reached the end of the hallway, disappointment flooded her. Although she was terribly curious about finding out what he was doing in here, she wasn’t too keen on exploring the basement. Scenes of scary movies flashed in her memory, reminding her just how much that place would be a bad idea. 

Little did she know that there was no need to visit the basement. He was already waiting for her to find him. He had been waiting for her for a while. 

Her fingers were shaky when she pushed the only remaining door open, the last unexplored room, and it wasn’t the tasteful furnishing that made her stop dead in her tracks.  
There he was, right in front of her, perched nonchalantly on one of the two armchairs at the window. A smug smile was plastered on his face and he tilted his head slightly, scrutinizing the young woman. “There you are. It took you long enough.” A shiver danced down her spine at the sound of his smooth voice which sounded just like she had imagined it.  
He rose from his seat in one fluent, graceful movement and sauntered towards her with his hands folded behind his back. Authority and poise radiated from him like she had never experienced it before, “And so we meet. Finally.” 

Like the other times she had seen him, he was dressed in what looked like a uniform. From the polished monk strap shoes to the precisely bound bow that adorned the collar of his shirt, not a single thing seemed out of place. And yet there was something about him…that was just off. Maybe it was his almost otherworldly handsomeness, the way his golden locks were styled in a perfect side part. The utter beauty of him. She wasn’t sure. 

“So,” she swallowed hard before she continued, desperate to keep her voice steady, “You’ve noticed me?” His cunning, ice blue eyes sparkled at hearing her speak for the first time.  
“Oh, yes. I’ve been aware of you for quite some time now. I appreciated how furtive your attempts were at keeping an eye on me,” amusement laced his words.

His long legs ate up the distance between them and he came to stand uncomfortably close before her. Close enough, as if they were acquainted. Friends even. Her breath hitched in her throat when he cocked his head to the side. A predator regarding its dinner. 

“Tell me, [Y/N], why did it take you so long to give in to your curiosity?” He studied her, paying attention to every inch of her body, every curve hidden under her simple, black sundress. The way his gaze raked over her, she couldn’t help but feel naked and exposed. 

“How do you know my name?” she demanded, grateful to have found her voice. He took a deep triumphant breath, “Oh, I know so much more than your name. You see, [Y/N], I have a talent. Call it a kind of…night-vision of the soul. I can see into the dark places that people desperately try to keep hidden.”

Reading other people’s minds was definitely supernatural and she had known that he was ‘other’. She swallowed hard and didn’t say what was on her mind. He would know already and her cheeks turned bright crimson at the realization.  
“You may not use your tongue,” he cooed and reached for her, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip in a brazen touch, “But your mind is screaming at me. Calling out all of the hidden desires that are buried within you. It’s…captivating.” 

“Who are you?” she asked instead of reacting to his statement. “My name is Michael Langdon,” he introduced himself and inclined his head slightly in a polite gesture.  
“Why do you keep visiting this house?” Her nails dug into her palms painfully as she tried to guide his attention elsewhere — she didn’t even want to visit her hidden desires herself. No, she was desperate to talk about something else, to then, eventually, get out of here.  
“I had other reasons in the past,” he waved his hand dismissively, the gesture elegant as a dancer’s, “But recently I’ve come here to wait for you. It was a matter of time until you’d give in. Although I do admit that I had expected you to break sooner. I appreciate perseverance in a person, I really do.” The smirk on his face confirmed the deliberate suggestiveness of his comment. Her mouth went dry. He was here for her. Only for her. 

“[Y/N], do you want to indulge in the fantasy your mind has entertained since the first time you’ve laid eyes on me?” he purred and his finger slid under and over the thin strap of her dress until he pushed it down, “Wasn’t this exactly how you had hoped things would play out?” 

“Fantasy and reality are two very different things,” she reminded him, her voice husky. “It doesn’t have to be,” he chuckled his eyes twinkling wickedly, “You see this room from your window, every day. You have spent many a daydream imagining how I fuck you over there. For anyone to see.” He gestured towards the windowsill. She didn’t understand how his voice could be so cool and collected considering what he had just told her. 

She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to ignore his offer, to ignore the heat that started to pound between her legs involuntarily. “Don’t be ashamed. I found your thoughts rather alluring,” his hand grabbed her chin tenderly to tilt it upwards, forcing her to meet his blazing eyes, “The enticing detail of every touch, every kiss, every thrust.” 

It was as if electricity crackled between them, the tension tangible and ready to set the house ablaze. “Don’t you want this, [Y/N]?” His free hand snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him until they shared breath, “I know you do, but I want you to say it. Admit how much your body yearns for me.” 

Michael leaned in and grazed his lips against her neck in pure temptation. A gasp escaped her and her hands relaxed. Oh, how she wanted this. How she had dreamed of this. 

The night after she had first seen him, he had visited her in her dreams. Had kissed her neck like he had done just now. Had endowed her with the most sensuous carnal pleasure she had ever felt. She remembered all too well how she needed to take a cold shower when she had been shaken awake. How she had resigned to using her own hand when the thoughts didn’t wash down the drain.

“That’s it,” he noted and placed a trail of kisses up to her jaw, “Tell me how much you want this.”  
Her arousal hung thickly in the air, there was no way of denying it any longer. And when Michael’s eyes met hers, she drew in a breath. “I want you. Desperately. So much it consumes me.”  
“Good girl,” he breathed against her lips before awarding her honesty with a desirous kiss. His tongue traced her lips lazily and she granted him entry as her fingers weaved into his silken hair. This was better than what her mind could ever have come up with. So much better.  
One of his hands palmed her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. Instinctively, her body arched into his touch, wanting more, needing more.  
Michael broke away from her and she was pleased to note that he, too, appeared out of breath and excited. Hastily, they helped to discard each other’s clothes, neither of them willing to drag it out any further. 

She took a moment to savor the sight of him, his flawless ivory skin, his delicately defined muscles, and his impressive length that exceeded her expectations. Although she wasn’t inexperienced, she prepared herself for feeling a little pain. The thought of it only added to her lust. 

Michael pulled her into another fierce kiss, all the while maneuvering them towards the window until he had her pinned against the wall. His lips shifted to her neck and nipped at her earlobe playfully while his hand wandered down. He took a moment and took her nipple between his fingers, tugging at it gently, so that a low moan escaped her. “Is this how you imagined it to be?” 

“Yes,” she got out as his fingers danced over her skin, down her stomach, until they slipped between her legs to push them apart. Michael smiled contentedly at the wetness he found waiting for him. Tantalizingly slow he ran his fingers between her folds before easing two fingers into her. Languidly, he started to explore her, to stretch her, preparing her for what was to come. Impatiently, she moved against him, willing his touch where she needed it. 

“Don’t get greedy,” he warned her but, nevertheless, brushed his thumb against her bundle of nerves. She ground her hips against his touch, forcing his fingers deeper inside of her. “That’s enough. Turn around,” he snarled and pulled back his hand. She almost yelped at the sudden loss of contact. 

“I said, turn around,” he repeated, the commanding tone of his voice sending chills over her body, “Brace yourself against the window frame.” Although she immediately did as she was told, she felt how his palm came down against her backside and made her groan. A pleasant tingle was left on her skin. “Spread your legs.” 

Willingly, she made room for him only to feel how he brought his palm down again, harder this time. She took his hits with low pleasurable noises, staring outside, towards her home, well-knowing that anyone on the street would be able to see her. Exposed, flushed, and consumed by lust. 

Just when she thought that Michael would allow her to catch her breath, he thrusted into her deeply with one strong stroke. He allowed her to adjust to his size, to savor every glorious inch of him inside of her, filling her completely. She didn’t need to tell him to continue, as he knew when she was ready.

Slowly and deliberately at first, Michael started to move. Each of his thrusts resonated through her entire body, forcing her to hold herself strongly against the frame underneath her palms.  
Ever so slightly, he increased his pace, his hands grabbing her hips fiercely as picked up a merciless rhythm, pounding in and out of her relentlessly. She could feel how he drove her closer and closer to the edge. 

One of his hands snaked around her and slipped between her legs, starting to massage her sweet spot. His dexterity combined with the fierce pace had her falling apart within a few moments and the orgasm shattered through her body violently. As his name fell from her lips in a moan, Michael slammed into her deeply to find his own release. 

Her entire body trembled as aftershocks surged through her, “This was better than my imagination.”  
Michael’s arms wrapped around her and she felt his lips against her neck, “Good. But I’m not done with you yet. This was only just the beginning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments! :)


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